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Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together :
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care ;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather,
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame :-
Age, I do abhor thee,
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.

W. Shakespeare

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Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat--
Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall we see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats

And pleased with what he gets-
Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

W. Shakespeare


4 It was a luver and his lass

With a hey and a ho, and a hey-nonino!
That o'er the green cornfield did pass
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing hey ding a ding:

Sweet lovers love the Spring.
Between the acres of the rye
These pretty country folks would lie :
This carol they began that hour,
How that life was but a flower :
And therefore take the present time

With a hey and a ho and a hey-nonino !
For love is crowned with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing hey ding a ding :
Sweet lovers love the Spring.

W. Shakespeare


PRESENT IN ABSENCE Absence, hear thou my protestation

Against thy strength,

Distance, and length;
Do what thou canst for alteration :

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join, and Time doth settle. Who loves a mistress of such quality,

He soon hath found

Affection's ground
Beyond time, place, and all mortality.

To hearts that cannot vary
Absence is Presence, Time doth tarry.

By absence this good means I gain,

That I can catch her,

Where none can watch her,
in some close corner of my brain :

There I embrace and kiss her;
And so I both enjoy and miss her.


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Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire ?
I have no precious time at all to spend
Nor services to do, till you require :
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end-hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu :
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs

But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those;-
So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

W. Shakespeare

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How like a winter hath my absence been
From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,
What old December's bareness everywhere !
And yet this time removed was summer's time:
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease :

Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit ;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

W. Shakespeare


7 A CONSOLATION When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate; Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possest, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on Thee--and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

W. Shakespeare




( never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify :
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie ;
That is my home of love ; if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again,

Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe, though in my nature reign'd
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stain'd
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good :
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose : in it thou art my all.

W. Shakespeare

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To me, fair Friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride;
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the season have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived ;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred, -
Ere you were born, was beauty's summer dead.

W. Shakespeare


Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly,

White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee !

I do love thee as my lambs

Are beloved of their dams;
How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.

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